


HANDS (remastered)

by kawaiibossAssSwagbitch420



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Other, Phone Sex, Trichotillomania
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-02 02:20:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5230205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawaiibossAssSwagbitch420/pseuds/kawaiibossAssSwagbitch420
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Don't make any trouble for Renji, okay? Be a good boy."</p><p> </p><p>****DISCONTINUED****</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. TOES

**Author's Note:**

> reupload of an old fic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm only teasing," Uta grins. "You're in such a bad mood today." His eyes zero in on Teru's, and his face turns a shade of pink from the attention. "Is it because I haven't kissed you in a while?" 
> 
> "Shut up," Teru says firmly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so it begins

He doesn't think twice about the burn pressing into his scalp. Within seconds, the discomfort heals itself, and he lifts himself from the running water to view the results. 

Still an orangey blond---not at all like the natural look he was going for. The coloring closest to his scalp is almost what he wanted, as he applied extra bleach to his roots to make sure the darker hair there would achieve the desired result. But it still looked shitty. 

Uta bites his lower lip thoughtfully. Let his hair heal for a bit, then try again tomorrow? Does hair heal the way the rest of his body does when he's wounded? 

So far, his hair is still a frizzy mess, and he decides to wait to try again. 

With the towel dangling over his shoulders, he pads into the kitchen towards the fridge. The jar of eyeballs pushed towards the back looks ever enticing, so he grabs one of a particularly beautiful cerulean blue and pops it into his mouth. A thick gel squishes between his teeth and slides down his throat. 

His apartment is meager, at most, and equipped only with the necessities: a bedroom big enough for one, maybe two cots; a bathroom with just enough room for a toilet, sink, and shower stall; and a kitchen with a well-stocked fridge, which he doubles into a sort of sitting room for himself and any guests. Rent was cheap and the neighbors were quiet--mostly elderly residence whose pension can just afford the stay. 

When a staccato of knocks hits against the door, he's not at all surprised. Aki, a particularly large ghoul, rushes in. His eyes, vibrant green against pale skin, shine fiercely. He glances up at Uta's new aesthetic transition, but makes no comment. "It's Teru," he explains in a gruff voice. 

Aki is never the type to mince words. He's blunt, and honest, and that's a quality Uta admires in him. He's trustworthy. When a situation escalates to danger, he's never the type to sit and let it happen. He'll take action, because his concern for his comrades is genuine. And Uta admires that. Aki will brush thick fingers through his well-kept black locks and smile---truly beam---when he's openly admired. He yearns to be the person who deserves such praises. And well, Uta admires that just the same. 

Uta raises his eyebrow. "What about Teru?" 

"There's been some trouble," he clarifies. 

Uta scratches at his chin, his expression still void of any response. He slips on a pair of shoes and asks, "And you left him by himself?" 

Aki frowns. "No, Boss. Mako's with him, he's handling it. But it's that guy that's been trespassing in the Nakahara territory. He was giving him another warning when the bastard attacked him." Uta says nothing more, only throws on a light jacket to follow Aki into the fall evening. With him, he brings a small satchel, which carries his mask. 

Aki doesn't say anything as they walk towards the south of the 4th Ward. When they reach a small restaurant, owned by a ghoul family called the Nakahara's, they turn into the alley way and dawn their masks---Uta's just as expressionless as his everyday countenance, and Aki's looking as if a thorny vine were piled on top of his face. 

Teru leans against the brick wall, his Kitsune mask covering his entire face, save for the messy mop of brunet hair that pokes out every which way. The white fox-face with blood red streaks along the snout glances up at Uta and Aki as they approach. He says nothing as he goes to walk alongside him. 

"Are you okay?" Uta asks quietly.

Teru gestures towards a rip in his grey graphic t-shirt, the seams frayed and stained a ruddy red with his blood. "This was my favorite shirt," he remarks coldly. His voice, normally lilting and quiet, muffles against his mask. He stands a full head under Uta, and Aki towers over his petit form. 

Uta shrugs. "I'll buy you a new one." 

"You bought me this one to begin with." 

Uta pinches his side playfully. "Is that why it's your favorite?" 

Before he can remark, they turn a corner to see Mako, his rinkaku wrapped around the offender's neck like a vice. His mask---a grey face, a frozen portrait dripping and melting like a wax statue--watches indifferently as the ghoul attempts an apology. Mako seems to be closer in size to Uta, not anything like end-of-the-spectrum Aki or Teru. A mess of grey curls sit tied against the nape of his neck, the waves trailing downward like the wax of his mask. 

"Let him down," Uta orders. Mako nods once before tossing the ghoul to the pavement. He trembles, tries to catch his breath, but then shoots his head up toward Uta when he approaches. His eyes are predatory, intimidating. The fresh corps of a young woman sits a few feet away and the smell is mouthwatering. "That yours?" he asks the ghoul. Sweat sticks to the culprit's forehead, black hair curling against the moisture. The question goes unanswered, and Uta doesn't like to waste time. His boot nearly knocks his jaw out of place. 

"I asked if that was yours," he says, leaning forward on one knee to make eye contact. He lets his kakugan engulf his eye. "Did you hunt her here? Lead her to this alley and slaughter her? Even though this is established territory, you still hunted here." 

"I was hungry," the ghoul growls. Uta makes no visible reaction. 

"I'm hungry, too." His voice turns cold, lowering an octave. His men behind him feel jittery. Teru takes a step back, hides behind Aki and Mako, and tries not to listen. 

_This is the worst part,_ he thinks. _Toying with them._

He wants to say something, but his throat feels dry and scratchy. So he swallows thickly and watches the wall. His toes curl in his shoes. He wants to run so fucking badly. 

Uta continues in the same menacing tone. "But there are rules that we like to keep around here, to keep the CCG off our backs. Understand?" 

"I do." 

"I don't think you do. You've received numerous warnings from my associates, yet you've continued hunting inside this territory. You even attacked one of them," he nearly hisses and Teru's stomach drops. "This territory, as I'm sure you've been told, belongs to the Nakahara family. They have children to feed and keep safe. A fool like you trespassing here will attract the CCG to their territory." Uta brushes a strand of hair out of the stranger's face, casual as always. "What do you think would happen if an investigator found their children?" 

The ghouls lip trembles. "Th-they'd... _kill them."_

"That's right," he smiles, condescending. "They'd kill the children." 

A choking noise escapes the other ghoul's mouth and Teru presses his lips into a thin line. He wants to reach out for a hand to hold, anyone's at all, but holds himself back. 

"I'm sorry," the ghoul sobs. "It won't happen again. I'm sorry, I didn't know they had kids." "It's much too late for apologies," Uta whispers. "Tonight would have been your final warning before direct action was taken. But you _attacked_ The Fox. He's not just some messenger, you know. He's my right-hand man. Obviously, his efforts to peacefully settle this issue went right over your fucking head. So I'll be taking over from here." 

"I'm leaving," Teru mumbles towards the other two before darting away. He jumps onto a fire escape and climbs towards the roof just as he hears wails of agony swell from the distance. 

* 

Two short knocks fall against Teru's door. He glances up from the couch and places his book in his lap. Uta enters without having to be invited in. 

"Is your mom home?" Uta asks. His hand holds the strap of a soft cooler. Teru shakes his head, then pats the seat next to him. 

"She went out with a friend. I think she's out getting coffee." He glares at the red package that Uta sits on the floor next to his feet. "That the guy from last night?" he snorts. He pulls his bare feet onto the couch, wiggles his toes against the soft cushioning. Uta grabs his smallest toe playfully and wiggles it, laughs at how Teru pulls his foot away from him with a small squeak. 

"No." Uta settles in closer to Teru. "It's the girl he snagged. The Nakahara's wanted to give her to you as thanks but you left before they could tell you." 

"I felt sick." 

"Ghouls don't get sick," Uta states simply. 

"You make me sick." Teru pulls his knees close to his chest. 

Uta regards him carefully. "So should I put this in the freezer?" 

"Do whatever you want, Uta." 

Uta heaves himself back onto his feet and carries the cooler towards the kitchen. Teru's mother possesses an excellent taste in home decor. The kitchen, sleek white walls with scores of counter space, gives way to an open view of their back garden. The rest of the home is just as well decorated---family photos sit in elegant picture frames, and porcelain takes up the space in between. 

Uta pries open the freezer door and unzips the cooler. Inside, flesh and organs packed in vacuum sealed packages pile on top of each other. He takes them out one by one and sits them carefully in the empty freezer. 

"How long has this been empty?" Uta calls out to Teru, still sitting on the couch. 

Teru pads into the kitchen quietly, watches Uta in his ministrations. "A while." 

"You're supposed to tell me when you two run out." 

Teru's nose scrunches up. "You don't have to take care of us." 

Uta turns his head and smiles at Teru. "No. But I want to. I like taking care of you guys." He closes the freezer and leans against the fridge. "Unless you think you can handle bringing home to bacon, so to speak." 

Teru narrows his eyes at him. 

Teru is weak. He's never seen his own kagune, has never been able to bring it out to defend himself, or to hunt for himself and his mother. When he feels threatened, his kakugan is dull, gay. Like a drop of ink swirling in water. He's never killed anyone on his own, has never brought home food for his equally as weak mother. 

So Uta does it for them. 

"And you wonder why I hate you," Teru hisses. "You say mean shit like that to me all the time." 

"I'm only teasing," he grins. "You're in such a bad mood today." His eyes zero in on Teru's, and his face turns a shade of pink from the attention. "Is it because I haven't kissed you in a while?" 

"Shut up," Teru says firmly. 

Uta takes a step toward Teru, who takes three steps back to get away from the approaching ghoul. Uta laughs in his throat when blotches of black spring up in Teru's eyes. He regards the other carefully, watches his pulse flutter under the delicate skin of his neck. "Tell your mother I said 'hi.'" 

"I will." 

He leaves the house just as quietly as he entered.


	2. FINGERS

Mako stands next to Teru and they watch traffic rush by. 

"Boss bring you that body?" Mako asks quietly. 

Teru takes a sip from his can of coffee. "Yeah." 

"That was nice of him." 

Teru watches Mako from the corner of his eyes. "Yeah, it was." 

Mako is conniving. He seems to thrive on the tension he can create between two people. When Teru and Uta have an argument, Mako isn't far away trying to drive the two further apart. A smile will set into his aging face when he hears the two quibbling, and his boney fingers will wrap around a celebratory cigarette. He'll pull back his gray locks and inquire about the argument, try to gather more information to drag them further down. But for all his attempts at scaring Teru away, he and Uta still maintain a tentative friendship. 

Teru finishes off his coffee and tosses the can into a nearby trash bin. 

"How's your mother?" Mako asks as he and Teru begin walking down the sidewalk. 

Teru shrugs, "She's fine. Why?" 

"Just trying to make conversation." Mako takes out a cigarette and lights it. Smoke rolls out from between his thin lips. "She still single?" 

"I'm not hooking you up with my mom, you ass!" 

He holds his hands up defensively. "Hey, I was just asking." 

Teru grumbles in his chest, picks at the skin on his chapped lips. "Stay away from my mom, you old perv."   
Mako laughs at him, his voice as raspy as ever. When they make it to Uta's apartment, Mako waves goodbye to him before heading out for his nightly patrols. An older, experienced ghoul with nothing better to do makes for the perfect night watch. 

Teru doesn't even bother knocking. He walks into the small apartment and throws his bag onto the counter. "Uta, I'm here." 

Above the sound of running water, Teru hears the other ghoul call out, "Ah, Teru! Sorry! I'll be out in a second!" 

To pass the time, he begins prepping the coffee machine for a few cups. The machine bubbles and growls and Teru watches the brown liquid collect in the glass jug. The shower is shut off just as the coffee machine squirts out the last few drops. He flicks the machine off and opens the cabinet in front of him to take out a couple of coffee mugs. He's met with nothing but plates and bowls. He glances up and sees the mugs have been moved to the top shelf. _That bastard moved them._

When Uta finally steps out of the bathroom, wearing black sweatpants and a towel around his neck, he sees Teru on his tip toes stretching up to reach the top shelf. His lips twitch with a smile, and he steps up closely behind the smaller ghoul to reach the cups for him. He feels his bare chest press against Teru's back, who tenses up underneath him. With two mugs in hand, Uta reaches over Teru's shoulder to sit them on the counter. The action positions his face close to Teru's ear, so to tease him further he whispers, "Here you go." 

Teru screeches. "Don't do that to me!" 

Uta can only part his lips in a soft smile. "Did I scare you?" 

He points a slender finger in Uta's face. "I will throw scolding hot coffee right in your face, so help me!" 

"What are you doing here anyway?" Uta asks casually. 

Teru frowns and retracts his hand. "I came to see you, obviously." 

"I thought you hated me?" 

"You know I really don't hate you," Teru smiles weakly. "I don't know. You've just been kind of an asshole lately." He turns back towards the counter and pours coffee into the two mugs. 

Uta sits at his small kitchen table and motions for Teru to join him, and takes the coffee his friend offers him. "How've I been an asshole?" 

He's so fucking genuine right now, Teru wants to scream. He never knows when he's being sincere or just fucking with him, just trying to get him to say something embarrassing to tease him about later. He wants to shake his shoulders and shout, _"You know exactly what's wrong!"_

But Teru only sits down quietly and sips at his coffee. Uta doesn't ask again. He's learned not to ask twice. 

"Aren't you gonna put on a shirt?" Teru scoffs. 

Uta shrugs. "And disrupt your perfect view?" 

He rolls his eyes. "You're nothing special to look at." 

"Oh?" 

Teru's face brightens with the banter. "Now Aki! You ever seen Aki shirtless?!" 

"When have you seen Aki shirtless?! Did you two sleep together?!" 

Teru doesn't laugh with Uta at the joke. "He doesn't strut around shirtless like someone else I know." 

Uta gestures towards the expanse of his small kingdom. "I'm in my own apartment. I can do as I please." 

"Well," Teru leans in closely, looking up at Uta from under his brow, "you have a guest. Show some decency." 

"You never denied sleeping with Aki," Uta snickers. 

Teru fumes. "I didn't sleep with Aki!" 

"Yeah?" Uta leans in as closely as Teru, cradles his face in his hands. "But who have you slept with, Teru?"   
He knits his eyebrows together, pathetic surrender. "You." 

"That's right." Uta reaches out and grasps a lock of chestnut brown hair, rubs his fingers against it. "Am I the only one, though?" 

"You already know the answer to that," Teru growls. "It was a mistake. You know that, too. I want to just forget it ever happened." 

"I don't think it was a mistake," Uta says slowly, feeling the words out one by one. He watches Teru, waits for a response. He drops his head onto the table when Teru says nothing. "Teru, please. I miss the way we used to be." 

"What do you mean?" 

He shifts his head and presses his cheek to the table. "Your mood wasn't constantly shifting. You used to actually look at me. I feel like you don't even touch me anymore." 

"My mood seems shifty because of how terrible you've been lately!" 

"That's not something for you to worry about. I can handle---" 

"You're cannibalizing other ghouls!" 

There's a thick silence. It rolls into the room like a fog, and creates a haze that Uta can hardly navigate. 

"Do you know how dangerous that is?!" Teru adds. "If the CCG found you---" 

"I'd be taken to Cochlea, I know." 

"Or worse!" Teru hisses. 

Uta lifts himself from the table and rubs his face. "Look, this isn't something for us to discuss. I do these things to help the ward. That's it. It's none of your business, so drop it." He stares at Teru expectantly, stormy grays meeting soft brown eyes. "This wasn't what I wanted to talk about. I wanted to discuss you and me." 

"There's nothing to discuss," Teru insists. 

"I think there's a lot there to discuss," Uta says sharply, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You can't keep avoiding the subject. You came here tonight---by yourself---and expected me not to say anything about it?" His tone is growing more and more severe, almost scolding, and Teru tries not to shrink back. He keeps his eyes focused, doesn't show any sign of wavering. But Uta continues, lays it on thick. "We used to be so close, so _intimate._ Then it just stopped. Why? Did I do something wrong? Were you just tired of me? _Scared_ of me?" 

And that statement does Teru in. He shrivels back into his seat, eyes darting towards his hands in his lap, picking at his nails. "I'm going to kill you, I swear." 

"You're already killing me," Uta says. His eyes linger on Teru's lips, causing the other ghoul to squirm nervously under his gaze. When he rubs his ankle against Teru's under the table, the smaller ghoul jumps in his seat and accidentally drops his coffee cup. It shatters upon contact with the floor. 

"Shit!" Teru hisses. He and Uta are both scrambling on their hands and knees to pick up the glass shards. "I'm sorry, Uta. I didn't mean to." 

"It's fine," he insists. "Don't apologize." 

Their hands meet in the chaos and it's so fucking cliche when Teru feels the warmth from his fingertips graze his skin. His breath hitches but he can't move. And then Uta is holding his hand and inspecting his fingertips and he can't slow down his heart beat. 

"Did you cut your finger? Let me see," Uta dotes. 

Teru snatches away his hand. When Uta looks back up at him, he nearly loses his mind. Clutching his hand to his chest, Teru glares at him with flared nostrils, pink dusting his cheeks, tears welling up in his eyes. His kakugan overcomes him immediately and Teru gasps. 

"Maybe I should....throw this away...." Teru suggests slowly. He feels his tongue swell in his mouth and his chest constrict. Fire pools in his abdomen. "Then, I'm gonna head home..." He stands and collects the glass before dumping the fragments into a waste bin. 

Uta stands behind him, keeps his distance. "Do you want me to walk you home?" 

"I'm not a kid anymore," Teru insists. 

"Just because you're an adult now doesn't mean you have to turn down nice gestures. I'll walk you home, dumbass." Uta disappears to slip a shirt over his head. Teru puts his jacket back on and then throws one towards Uta. They both slip into a pair of shoes, but Teru stops Uta from walking out the door. 

"Your eyes..." He points a finger at his own. Uta glances into the window by his front door and sees his kakugan in the reflection. He presses his eyes shut and reopens them, his steel grey eyes greeting him once again. He grins at Teru, who stares at him. "Does that always happen?" 

"What?" 

"Do you always have trouble retracting your kakugan?" 

"Yes," Uta lies. "It's always been like that." 

* 

Mayu is a home keeper. 

She spends her day cleaning, gardening, filling her life with little tasks to use up the time normal mothers would use to cook for their family. All she has to do is throw a pack from the freezer into the fridge to thaw out---then her and her son, Teru, will be able to eat that night. 

When she's not floating around the house, straightening knick-knacks and sweeping the floors, she's reading, or perhaps crafting poetry of her own creation. Sometimes she sends in her poems to literary magazines, or newspaper contests, and beams when her entries make the mark. She clips them out to show her son, her friends over coffee. 

Sometimes she'll play with makeup, even if she is far from her teenage years. But it's always been something she takes pride in---her expert skills in front of a mirror. She'll pull back auburn locks, line her bright eyes with earthy colors, fill in her full lips with shiny pink gloss. Her skin would always come out looking porcelain, almost doll like. But the natural look was best on her, she thought, and that's how she always applied her makeup before heading out for work each night. 

She's successfully filled every moment of her life and still maintains her well-earned "World's Best Mom" coffee mug. 

Her finger pokes against the mound of muscle and flesh in the fridge, and the pale grey form feels squishy and malleable under the pressure. Their meal is ready, but where is her Teru? She never wants to jump to conclusions, but a mother simply can't help it sometimes. With Dove's constantly on the prowl, her fingers always tingle with the rush of adrenaline at the thought of her son never coming home again. Then what would she do? She'd be alone in this big city---without the absolute love of her life---and would probably have to find some sort of safe house for weaker ghouls. Or worse. 

She never wants to think about going back to the second option again. 

Mayu feels for her cellphone in her purse, but pauses when the door opens. "Mom, I'm home," her favorite voice in the world calls out. _Oh, thank goodness!_ she thinks as she steps into the sitting room. 

Teru and his friend Uta slip out of their shoes before entering the home completely. She smiles warmly. "I was just about to open one of the packages from the freezer. Was that from you, Uta?" 

The blond ghoul, taller than both her and her son, nods and offers a small smile. "Yeah, Mom. I hope it lasts a little longer this time." 

Mayu leads the boys into the kitchen and gestures for them to sit down. She opens a cabinet and begins pulling out plates and silverware. "Hungry?" 

"Starving," Teru whispers. 

"I'm fine. You two enjoy. But can I get some coffee, Mom?" Teru glares at Uta, but says nothing. Mayu just hums and turns toward the counter, pouring a cup and sitting it in front of Uta. She sits down two plates and joins them at the table. She ties back her wavy hair and begins slicing the meat into bite sized portions. Teru leans forward to dig into his meal and Mayu can't help but to think how much he reminds her of his father. 

Uta watches them eat and can't help but to smile. There's something satisfying about watching people eat the food you provide. It makes him feel important, needed, and maybe a little appreciated. Although the way Teru's looking at him right now makes him think he should leave. 

But Mayu reaches over the table to grab Uta's hand. Her eyes soften, and her expression looks genuine even with her kakugan exposed. "Thank you, dear. I don't know what we'd do without you." 

Teru averts his eyes. His mother kicks him under the table. He hisses through the pain, "Thanks." 

Uta smiles at him. "Don't mention it." 

He didn't even hunt this meat for them. He took it after killing the ghoul responsible, after eating the ghoul responsible. And Teru wants to kick and scream if it'll make Uta understand just how fucking awful it was. He finishes his plate, feels satisfied enough to leave the table, and kisses the top of his mother's head before making a quick exit. "Night, Mom." 

Uta crosses his arms over his chest before standing to leave. "I'll see myself out," he smiles softly. 

Mayu stands as well and walks him to the door. "Is everything okay?" she asks softly. She glances in the direction of Teru's room down the hall. Her rich brown eyes dart back towards Uta. He thinks of Teru's eyes briefly. 

"I think he's mad at me," Uta answers. He grabs his jacket and slips his arms through the sleeves. "Hopefully things die down in a few days." 

"I know you two have been friends for a long time," Mayu continues. "You've looked out for him since day one, and I'm so thankful for that. But he's frustrated, I can tell. He's so easy to read. I think," she says lowly, trying to keep her voice down, "he knows that you need someone to look out for you right now. But you won't let him be that person." 

"You're as perceptive as always," Uta snickers. "I'm a mother, okay?" Her tone suddenly turns sharp, and Uta feels himself straighten his posture obediently. "I'm not just Teru's mother; I'm _your_ mother as well, even if we don't share the same blood. Don't think I don't have my mama-vision zeroed in on you, too. If you're doing something so bad that it's actually worrying Teru, then you need to stop." 

"I'm not doing anything bad."


	3. EARS

They wandered the streets at night, not a single moment spent worrying for themselves. They had each other, Teru had Uta to rely on, Uta had Teru to cherish. Other ghouls would joke about how close they were, made Teru blush and stumble over his words. 

"He's my best friend," Teru would smile, and Uta would melt. 

After months of this torture, of this stalemate of "just friends," Uta couldn’t take it anymore. So he pushed Teru into an alley and smashed their lips together. It was rough, Uta bit down on his lower lip and growled into his mouth and Teru all but melted against his heat. He absolutely claimed Teru's lips, licked into his mouth and moaned like he was something delicious. When they tore their hungry lips apart, they stared at each other, wide eyed and breathless, and Uta grabbed Teru by the wrist and dragged him home and locked the bedroom door. 

Today when Teru thinks about that moment, he wants to die. He wants to waste away into a pile of dust and be swept under the rug. 

He's been tossing and turning all night with that memory invading his mind. He hears Uta leave soon after he storms off to his bedroom, and he wishes it was two years ago. Because two years ago Uta would have followed him and demanded an explanation, held his wrists against the wall and forced it out of him. Teru would have fought against him but not too much, only enough to annoy Uta into pushing him against the mattress and-- 

No! Teru doesn't want to think about that! 

But he can't help it. He can't help but to remember the warmth of his fingertips just hours ago, that warmth traveling across his skin and leaving goose bumps in their wake. His toes curl when he thinks of Uta's voice, raspy and rough with lust, whispering in his ear just like he used to. _You like that, don't you? Good boy. Feel good? Rougher? You're so fucking dirty._ Teru's breath hitches when his cock gives an interested twitch. He hesitates, but eventually grabs his phone and thumbs through the contact list. He finds Uta's number and his finger hovers over the green button. 

Should he? There's definitely been tension building up. There are times when Uta and Teru are alone and his kakugan slips out and he reeks of desire. He's held himself back from touching Uta for months, but he knows both ghouls would love nothing more than physical contact. 

He throws his phone back onto the mattress and tries to ignore his erection long enough to get some sleep. But it grows painful and he can't find a comfortable position. Teru throws himself onto his stomach---buries his face in his pillows---and tries to ignore the jolt of pleasure, but he screws himself over when he rolls his hips forward and groans. "God damn it." 

He picks his phone back up and actually makes the call. Uta answers on the third ring. 

"Teru? Something wrong?" 

"Not really," Teru breathes. He mulls over a response in his mind. Why did he even call? 

"So.... You just wanted to talk, or....?" 

"Where are you?" he demands. 

"I just got home. Why?" 

"I just.... I wanted to make sure you got home safely," he lies. 

"I assure you, I can handle myself walking home," Uta laughs into the receiver. Teru's entire body trembles and he hopes Uta didn't hear that shaky breath he just took. 

"I'm sorry," Teru finally says. 

"I've been acting like a jerk." 

"To be fair," Uta says softly, "I've been a jerk, too." 

Uta's voice is driving him crazy. His thin fingers curl into the bed sheets, holding himself back from touching his aching cock. 

"You didn't call to apologize, though," Uta suddenly accuses. "You'd do that in person. This is about earlier." 

"What do you mean?" 

"When you were a blushing mess because I held your hand. Or was it when I tried to play footsies with you under the table?" His voice is dark, low and rumbling in his small bedroom. He knows what he's doing to Teru and it makes the smaller ghoul want to hang up. 

But Teru doesn't hang up. Instead, he hangs on every word Uta whispers through the receiver. 

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Uta breathes. Teru holds back a whimper—his dick is throbbing with need. 

“Yeah,” he finally answers after collecting himself. 

“You get just a little bit of physical contact and you’re suddenly insatiable,” he chuckles. 

“Shut up.” 

“What if I decided to run back to your house, hm? Instead of just sitting here saying dirty things while you jerk yourself off?” He pauses, listens for the telltale signs that Teru’s touching himself. But his hands remain gripped against the phone and in the sheets. “Are you touching yourself, Teru?” 

“No,” he gasps. But he squirms, waits for the order. 

“Do it,” Uta demands. “I know how much your little cock needs it. Touch yourself.” 

Teru abides. He shoves his pants down his thighs and wraps a hand around his member. He pumps slowly, holds his breath and listens to Uta. He drags his thumb across the slit and let’s out the tiniest moan to let Uta know he’s following orders. 

He nearly comes when Uta growls into his ear, _”Good boy.”_

He’s never felt this good touching himself. Probably because Uta’s voice in his ear electrifies his nerves, increases his sensitivity beyond comprehension. God, it’s been so long, _too long._ He’s close to begging Uta to come over, to open him up and turn him into a sobbing mess. Absolutely claim him, fuck him, devour him. But Uta keeps making orders, guiding Teru’s hand up and down his own length, his thumb over the slit, his fingers to massage his balls. Teru is breathless within minutes, whimpering and whining into the phone, hoping the noise goes straight to Uta’s groin. 

“’m close. U-Uta, please,” he moans. His voice jumps with a particularly broken whimper, and Uta groans into the receiver. 

“I didn’t say you could come,” Uta whispers. His voice is rough, breathy, and Teru wonders if he’s started tugging at his own cock. A certain chill creeps down his spine when he imagines it: Uta spread out on his tiny cot, phone pressed to his ear with his shoulder, long fingers curled around his leaking member, flushed red and angry with arousal. “Roll over onto your stomach, baby. I want you to imagine I'm there. Spread your knees, okay?” 

Teru obeys. He always obeys. Little ass stuck up high in the air, hem of his jeans digging into his thighs. He’s certain Uta can hear the scuffling of fabric as he kicks them down and off. His weight dents the pillows, tucked under his arms and against his chest. 

“That’s it,” Uta breathes. “Good boy. You’re always so good for me, aren’t you? But you know what I like best?” 

Teru’s still moving, hips stuttering forward like he wants to come. But he can’t. He hasn’t been given permission yet. “What?” he gasps. Sweaty, trembling fingers grasp the phone. 

“When you’re my _slutty_ boy.” 

His brow beads with sweat, and he wants to hang up. But Uta laughs at the way Teru’s breath hitches at the word. Legs spread wider as his cock leaks into the sheets. Balls aching and asshole clenching on nothing. Uta listens to Teru come undone, a loose thread pulling and unraveling. And he hates it all. He fucking hates that it’s Uta doing this to him, that it’s _only_ ever Uta. 

Fucking trapped yet again. Why can’t he find release? Why can’t he run away? 

“Teru, baby,” Uta sings. “Do you wanna come?” 

Eyes fly open, like Uta were there whispering in his ear. He shivers, swallows thickly, and nods. “Yes. _Yes._ Please…” 

And Uta only hums. “I don’t know. Only good boys get to come.” 

Teru nearly wails. _”Uta!”_ Why does he always have to play games? 

“Tell me, Teru.” Uta’s voice is dark and sinister and the danger to his tone makes Teru’s toes curl. “Tell me what you look like right now. Tell me how you feel, how you _want_ to feel.” 

His teeth grit behind chapped lips. Pumps himself faster, shakes all over. That heat nestling at the base of his spine wanting to explode. “I-I’m… I’m gonna…” 

_”Teru,_ you’d better not come.” 

Wet little voice gurgles in frustration. “No, _please._ I _need_ this…” 

“Keep your voice down,” he demands, and Teru snaps his mouth shut. “Do you really want your mom to hear you?” 

_“Please,”_ he whimpers. 

“I bet you’re squirming around, aren’t you? On your hands and knees. Are you pressing your face in the pillows? Are you sweating and panting and leaking from your little cock? I bet you are.” Uta paints a pretty picture with his rough voice. “You’re such a little slut when you’re so wrecked. And I’m the one that’s wrecking you.” There’s a certain condescendence to his tone when Uta whispers, “Doesn’t it piss you off? The things I can do to you?” 

"I'm gonna hang up," Teru threatens. 

But Uta only laughs lowly. "No you're not." 

Sweat beads on Teru's brow, and his pumping increases in speed. He's practically shaking the bed. He chokes on a whimper, the warmth in his stomach almost too unbearable. 

"I'll tell you what you will do, Teru." Teru holds his breath, his limbs aching and his back bowed off the mattress. With finality, Uta says, "You're going to _come for me."_

He snaps, like a rubber band stretched taut and then released. A sticky white mess coats his shirt and pleasure wracks through his body as he moans wantonly into his cellphone. Uta groans appreciatively, a smile in his voice when he says, "You're so good, Teru. So good, coming _for me._ So fucking filthy." 

Teru throws an arm over his eyes and shivers. "Shut up," he breathes. 

"Go to sleep, Teru. I'll see you in the morning." 

"Yeah, yeah," he sighs. 

"Teru." Uta's voice sounds pained, very much unlike his usually calm demeanor and it worries Teru for a moment. But then he frowns when Uta says, "Come over tomorrow night. I miss this." 

"Why should I?" "You were obviously thinking about the fun we used to have," Uta chuckles. "Let's have some fun again." 

"Good night, Uta." He hangs up without another word. 

* 

Uta never really had strong feelings for anyone before. 

He appreciated the ghoul called Jiro, who acted as his guardian when his own parents disappeared. A strong ghoul with strikingly masculine features and a voice like gravel, he carried the child to his home more than a decade ago. Uta was too young; he can't remember that night even if he tried. But he remembers Jiro being warm: warm coffee and warm blankets, warm smiles and words of encouragement, warm hands that would pat the top of his head every morning. 

But Jiro wasn't a parental figure in the slightest. Even though he had a knack for handling children, he was lazy and could barely keep up with Uta's antics as a young teenager. He never kept him in check, never hinted at an ounce of interest in his well-being. 

When Uta was six years old, he and Jiro were heading home from a night out hunting. They approached a small, huddled figure in the entrance of the alleyway, and Jiro almost kept walking before he had to stop to wait for Uta. 

A young boy sat crying on the cement, his brown locks a tangled mess and his chubby fingers digging into the flesh of his cheeks. His shoulders shook as he sobbed. 

Uta stared, his young mind unable to wrap around the situation. So Jiro crouched down on one knee and pressed his hand into the boy's shoulder. "Hey, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Lost?" 

The little one shook his head vigorously. His eyes glistened, red and puffy, when he looked up at the two ghouls. "I can't find Daddy," he said, his tiny voice rough from crying. 

They figured out the young ghoul was Mayu's son, a ghoul that lived right on the edge of the fourth ward. Uta didn't know why Jiro smirked and the boy frowned when Jiro mentioned, "She works at a hostess club. Caters to humans all night." 

Mayu opened the door and grabbed her son from Jiro, wrapped her arms around him tightly and sobbed. "Thank you! Thank you for finding my Teru!" 

When he and his guardian returned home that night, Uta realized he hadn't said a single word to Teru. He hoped desperately to see him again so he could say something--- _anything_ at all. 

* 

Teru stomps on the cigarette Mako dropped on the sidewalk. He doesn't know why, but it's a pet peeve of his when Mako just leaves the cigarette to burn out on its own. So he does it every time. 

"There was a fight last night," Mako remarks. "Aki broke it up. Some guy from another ward, I think. Boss wants you to talk to him if it happens again." 

Uta thrusted Teru's reputation onto him, more or less, over the past year or so. Uta is lazy, and if the ghouls of his ward can be persuaded to calm down and adhere to territories verbally, he'd rather it be done that way than make an appearance. Teru is good with words, Uta says. He knows what ghouls want to hear, can help them come to understandings even when they're still heated up from fighting with each other. He's known as The Fox to the CCG, but as The Diplomat to the ghouls of the ward. 

"Right," he mutters, picking at a patch of dead skin on his thumb. "I guess just let me know if it happens again." 

He hasn't seen Uta in a week, but he won't admit out loud that he's actively avoiding him. Teru's completely embarrassed by the phone call the two shared, and he knows he can't face Uta after that. Because they'll fall back into an old habit that Teru hates. They'll fuck, act as though they've always been lovers, but then someone will say something and Teru will realize it was all a mistake. 

Because he might still be in love with Uta, but Uta doesn't love him. He's just fascinated with him.


	4. NOSE

Their first time was clumsy. Uta's hands shook when he lowered Teru onto the bed and his breath hitched. A part of him wanted to push him down, to fuck into him mercilessly and break him. But when Teru whimpered into his neck and clutched the fabric of his shirt, it dawned on him that another part of him wanted to treat Teru like he's something worth worshipping---to take him slowly, lick and nip every inch of skin, make him come hot and fast down his throat before flipping him onto his stomach, roll and snap his hips achingly slow and fill him to the brim with his seed. Uta fumbled with buttons and zippers, nearly dropped the lube on several occasions, and almost considered stopping to save himself further embarrassment. 

Their second time, Uta was more confident. He had Teru bend forward, put himself on display, and completely soaked his entrance in lube, scissored his fingers inside the smaller ghoul and made him squirm, made him leak on the bed. He flipped him over on his back and looked at him like he was his next meal---predatory and dangerous. Teru blushed all over, bucked his slender hips forward for friction. He watched Teru's reactions, held his chin and forced him to look at him when he breached the small ring of muscles. He fucked Teru, who was clinging to him like he was about to die--gasping and writhing beneath him. It made Uta's head spin, and Teru absolutely lost it. Every breath he took was punctuated with a moan, his meek voice stringing a line of curses and crying, "Uta. _Uta._ More. I want more." So Uta gave him more. His fingers brushed his entrance stretched around Uta's cock, and he pried the muscle open more, and Teru _screamed._ Came without Uta having to touch him, and Uta followed soon after when his little hole fluttered around his length. 

When they cuddled up next to each other, Uta exhaled deeply and said, "That was interesting." 

It would have been okay had he left it at that. Teru would have pulled Uta's arm to wrap around his waist, fall asleep with his back pressed against him. But then Uta added, "Sex is a fascinating thing, isn't it Teru? Sex with you is so fascinating." 

"Fascinating?" Teru lifted an eyebrow, his heart hammering. 

"You're normally so composed. And so quiet. I've never seen you like that, and I fucking _loved it._ We should do this again." 

"Of course we'll do this again," Teru tried to laugh. "We're... We're a thing now, right...?" 

His heart dropped. Uta looked at him, eyes wide and curious, and asked, "What do you mean 'we're a thing now'?" 

Teru pressed his lips together, heaved himself off the bed and started searching for his clothes. Uta didn't stop him. He stared at the ghoul lounging in his bed, and he tried to not let his voice break. "This was a mistake. I think you should go home now." 

* 

The worst part about Uta is how ruthless he is. 

Teru can still remember when they were children together---when Uta would hold his hand when he was scared, comfort him when he felt lonely, kiss his cheek when he cried and said, "It's okay, Teru. I'm here." 

Now, Uta is quick to violence. Almost revels in it. In his younger years, he would pick fights with other ghouls, and Teru would grab his shoulder and beg him to stop when he was close to killing the other. Sometimes, it seemed, Uta would get lost in the moment; a haze would fog over his eyes, and he'd snarl and shove Teru away. He'd kill them anyway, no matter how hard Teru was crying. 

It wasn't long before other ghouls became interested in Uta. They'd send him to kill their enemies, send messages to other organizations. And Uta loved it. He'd come to Mayu and Teru's house with bloody knuckles and packs of fresh meat. He smelled of sweat, gravel, and normally whichever ghoul he happened to attack that night. He'd crawl into bed with Teru, wrap his arms around his small frame, and tell Teru about all the fun he was having until his voice slowed to a low drone and he fell asleep. 

Teru cried. He was a cry-baby, really. He cried until snot ran down his nose and his knees shook. He'd plead for Uta to stop, because what he was doing was dangerous. The CCG would hunt him down for sure---there were already rumors of an investigation on No Face rolling into action. Uta was only 15, Teru didn't want the CCG to hunt a _child._. 

So Teru dawned his fox mask and followed his friend on his nightly excursions. Teru would interrupt the fights, convince Uta to let him at least talk to the ghoul he planned to kill. Often, an agreement was met, and Uta was forced to stand down. Thus, The Diplomat was born. 

But Teru had been seen with No Face, and soon The Fox's file was created at CCG headquarters. 

The first time Dove's came looking for No Face, The Fox happened to be with him. Teru was completely helpless, a sitting duck hiding behind Uta. He only taunted the investigators. He jumped and leapt between the two men, tried to take their attention off of Teru long enough for him to flee. But Teru couldn't leave him there. He dodged the quinque attacks, flustered the Dove's, and Uta went in for the kill. 

They dragged the bodies quickly to Jiro, who dismembered them in his basement and gave a large helping to Teru for him and his mother. 

His mother screamed at Uta when she found out what happened. She accused him of putting her baby in harm's way, and reminded Uta that he was supposed to be protecting Teru. Uta took her scolding surprisingly well, muttering a "Yes, ma'am" and "No, ma'am" when needed. Teru took Uta into his room, wrapped his arms around his chest and tangled their legs together. 

"You're so awful," Teru whispered. "I was almost killed." He nuzzled his nose into Uta's chest, let his scent fill him like it was the last time they'd ever be that close. 

"I told you to run, idiot." 

"I was scared they'd kill you," he admitted. 

Uta's arm tightened around him. "So you would have died too? Trying to save me or some shit like that?" 

Teru curled in on himself, against his chest. "Yeah. I'd do _anything_ for you." 

* 

Another terrible thing about Uta w 

as how his ruthlessness transcended from the streets to the bedroom. Their first time was soft, almost dreamlike for Teru. But as they continued to become more accustomed to each other's bodies, Uta's actions became more and more domineering, almost violent. And it scared Teru. 

He'd spank Teru, call him terrible names and pull his hair. His kagune would sneak out from behind his back, wrap around his erection to stop him from coming while Uta pounded into his tight ass brutally. He'd fuck Teru's mouth, abuse those pink lips until they were swollen and his face was damp with tears. He'd bite into his flesh and suck and lick at the blood that trickled out. He'd come, deep in his ass, and growl in his ear, "Good boy. _Good boy."_

But he'd hold him afterwards each time and tell him, "I'm sorry. I get carried away..." 

And Teru would forgive him. 

Because sometimes, when everyone treats you like you're easily breakable, it's nice for someone to actually _try_ and break you to pieces. 

* 

It's been two weeks since he's seen Uta. Teru feels awful, like his body is overcome with guilt manifested into disgusting ooze, filling every nook and cranny of his innards. He can't escape. But he won't go to see him because that's exactly what Uta wants---to hook up, abuse his weakness for physical affection, abuse _him._

One night, while he's sitting at home with his mother, Aki bangs on the door hastily. Teru motions for his mother to stay seated while he lets the larger ghoul in. Aki wastes little time and gets straight to business. 

"A ghoul is starting shit with some other guys down by the loading docks," he says to Teru. His mother perks up, worried as always. "Same ghoul Mako told you about before. I had to break it up, but it seems like he's back for more action. Think you can talk to him?" 

"Teru," Mayu whispers. "Please don't. Not this one. Let Uta---" 

"Take me to him," Teru snaps. He's out the door before his mother can protest further. 

Aki and Teru run for the docks, slow their pace down when sounds of breaking wood and scuffling feet sift through the air. Aki approaches first, his mask slipping over his face. Teru follows suit, and tries to seem as intimidating as possible---a sheep in wolf's clothes. 

A ghoul, his ukaku blown out like huge wings, tears the limb off another ghoul and throws it over his shoulder. He digs his teeth into their neck and rips the flesh away, his throat bobbing as he swallows. 

"Hey!" Teru demands. The aggressors face shoots up to stare at him. His black and red eyes shine brightly behind gun-metal grey hair, and broad shoulder square intimidatingly. He's tall, Teru observes, and almost as large as Aki. He swallows thickly, adrenaline tickling his fingertips. The ghoul slams the limp body onto the ground, his sights set on Teru---a smaller ghoul, easy prey. 

"I don't know what ward you come from," he begins, voice still strong and unwavering, "but in this ward, we do our best not to draw attention from the CCG. You can either leave or follow the rules." 

He takes a step towards Teru, and Aki stands in front of his friend defensively. 

"We're willing to help you," he continues. "We can show you a map of established territories, help you find the free hunting ranges. This can all stop tonight and we can all go home with our limbs still intact. Got it?" 

He still says nothing, only takes one, two, three more steps forward. Aki tenses up in front of Teru, who can see the whites of his knuckles. His heart leaps when he realizes even Aki is scared of this guy. 

"You're cannibalizing other ghouls?" Teru feels like he's had this conversation many times before, and he tries to hold back his urge to scream at this mystery ghoul. "You know how dangerous that is? Do you even know what you're doing?" 

"Getting stronger," he finally says. Teru wants to say something else, but he's cut off when red spikes fly towards him and Aki. Aki releases his koukaku, which resembles a wall before he morphs it into a sword-like shape. He charges at the silver-haired ghoul, slashing left and right as the other continuously parry. Aki is eventually taken off guard, and the red spikes firing from the foes ukaku gets the better of him. 

One shoots right through his sternum, immobilizing Aki indefinitely. He falls to the ground, wide eyes watching Teru as he coughs up blood. "Run." 

Teru's breath hitches when the larger ghoul once again approaches him. He begins backing away slowly. "We didn't come to fight. Only to talk. Stand down right now--you don't know who you're dealing with." 

"Oh?" A thin eyebrow perks up. The ghoul goes to lunge at Teru, who manages to flip backwards and land on his feet ten yards away. "Enlighten me then." 

Teru thinks of fleeing. But he can't bring himself to leave Aki behind. Aki would never do that to him. So he dodges attacks, twirls and jumps through the air like an acrobat and stalls for time. If Aki can heal himself soon, he could join in. Maybe they'd win afterall. 

He jumps off of a wall and lands a kick to the opponent's face, and can practically feel the bones crunching beneath his foot. But before he can kick away, the larger ghoul grabs him by the ankle and slams him onto the ground. The air in his lungs comes rushing out and his head spins. His ribs catch fire, and when he tries to pry himself off the ground, he's being thrown---like a ragdoll---against a dumpster 200 feet away. His head slams against metal, cracking an ear off of his mask. When his vision becomes foggy, a sharp pain rings through his body. He coughs up blood as tears prickle his eyes. 

_"Shit,"_ he hisses. He can hear the other approaching him and he struggles to pull himself back up. 

"You're weak," the other ghoul observes. Teru rolls himself onto his hands and knees and clutches his ribs---broken and burning beneath his skin. He bites back a sarcastic remark, instead turning a hateful gaze towards the other. He stumbles onto his feet, tries not to put too much pressure on his still-weak ankle, and clenches his fists. 

"We came," he heaves, "to _talk."_

The taller ghoul huffs. He glares over at Aki, still healing, then turns his gaze back onto Teru. 

"What's your name?" Teru demands, still stalling. 

"Yomo," they answer. "Renji Yomo." 

"Yomo," Teru repeats, his voice becoming weaker. "Talk to me, Yomo. Tell me why you're doing this. Make me understand. Let me help---" 

"You can't help me!" His fist makes contact with Teru's jaw, who flies backwards and lands against a wall. The pain sets into his bones like a disease. 

He closes his eyes when Yomo approaches him, grabs a fistful of his hair, and yanks him back onto his feet. He cracks an eye open just enough to see Yomo bring his large fist back, thrusting it forward-- 

And then Uta catches it in his own hand, stopping the inevitable impact inches from Teru's nose. He exhales shakily. "Uta..."


	5. EYES

Yomo releases his hold on Teru, and the smaller ghoul slumps onto the ground. 

Uta glares, his kakugan exposed and his lips almost pulled back into a snarl. "Attacking The Fox, I see?" he asks Yomo. 

The other doesn't answer, only lunges away from Uta when he tries to land a blow across his face. 

"You must be the new guy I've heard so much about. But you probably haven't heard of me, have you?" 

"You're Uta," a rough voice answers. "The mediator." 

Uta laughs, the sound deep in his throat. Teru tenses up against the wall. "How flattering. You know who I am, but I can't say that I'm familiar with you." 

Yomo doesn't answer Uta. Teru coughs once, tries to regain control of his lungs. "His name's Yomo." 

"Yomo? Well, Mr. Yomo, I believe you've become acquainted with my dear friend, Aki." Uta gestures towards Aki, who slumps against a loading trailer---his wounds almost completely healed. "And, of course, my right-hand man, Teru." 

Teru snarls and rips off his mask. Yomo's eyes widen, like he's surprised, when he sees Teru's face. His blotched kakugan glows in the late night air, and the cuts and bruises on his delicate face heal slowly. Uta looks down at him, clicks his tongue critically, and then returns his stare to Yomo. 

"That was my only mask, you asshole," Teru growls at Yomo. 

Yomo's frown sets deeper. 

Uta keeps his expression blank, but his voice is still as condescending as ever. "Can we resolve this peacefully, or do you still wanna fight, _Renji?"_

Yomo doesn't answer. He approaches Uta quickly, projects shards of red towards the other ghoul, and dodges the subsequent kick Uta sends his way. The shards plunge into the wall next to Teru, who loses his breath for a moment in shock, but then gains enough composure before any more can fly his way. He leaps on top of a loading trailer, one near Aki, and watches the fight below him---healing while he waits. 

This Renji Yomo is just as strong as Uta, it seems. They dance around each other, landing blows and dodging attacks equally as well, until they're both panting for breath. But that slows neither of them down. 

Uta thrusts his flat palm forward, strikes Yomo's guts and retracts a bloody hand. He stumbles back, clutching his abdomen, but seems to heal nearly instantaneously. Teru gapes at the feat. 

When Yomo twists his body to bring a bulky boot across Uta's face, he nearly cries out. 

But amazingly, Uta heals just as quickly... 

"Wait," he breathes. He watches them strike each other, more severely, and heal just the same. This won't end, not at all. 

"Wait!" he screams. . 

Surprisingly, they both stop to look up at him. 

"You two are gonna kill each other!" The two ghouls look at each other and Teru fucking swears he sees both of them shrug. 

Teru has to think quickly, has to separate the two. He never wants anything to end like this.... "He still has another warning, Uta!" Teru calls out. "This was his second! You know how things---" 

"He attacked you!" Uta screams, infuriated. 

"I'm fine!" he shouts before they can resume their fight. "Please, Uta, please! One more strike! Then he's out!" 

Uta tenses below him, Yomo's eyes turning back to watch him carefully. Uta takes two steps forward and points a long finger at Yomo. "One more warning, Renji. Then I get to kill you." 

Uta bounds onto the loading trailer Teru stands on, Aki following behind. When they're out of sight, down an alleyway, Uta grabs Teru by the wrist and pins him against the brick wall. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he hisses. "Are you some sort of fucking idiot?!" 

"Uta, I---" 

"Don't!" he snaps. "You're such a fucking idiot, Teru! What you did back there was so fucking dangerous, and you know it!" 

Aki steps forward, puts a hand on Uta's shoulder. "Boss, it's my fault. Teru couldn't help it." 

Uta turns his severe expression on Aki. "Don't even get me started on how fucking upset I am with you! You're supposed to protect Teru!" He rolls his shoulder quickly, snaps Aki's hand off of him, and then glares at Teru again---his eyes livid, black veins popping on the soft skin around his eye sockets. "What if he killed you?! You know that's what he was trying to do, right?!" 

Teru can hardly find his voice when he answers softly, "I know." 

"What if I hadn't gotten there in time?!" Uta's eyes are wild, his expression furious. "You'd be dead! _Dead,_ Teru! How do you think your mother would feel?! You're so fucking lucky that she called me and told me where you were going! I have every mind to go and tell her how much of an idiot you were tonight!" 

Teru can feel the prickling of tears yet again and grasps at Uta's shirt. "Don't! She doesn't need to know!" 

"And when exactly can she know?! The night that you just don't come home?! She's already been through that once, Teru! And you wanna put her through that _again?!"_ Uta let's go of Teru's wrist and starts to walk away, his fists clenching and his knuckles white. "I can't believe you!" 

Aki places a reassuring hand on Teru's shoulders, and they resign to leave. But Uta stops them. He turns around and backs Teru back into the wall. 

"Don't ever do anything like that again, do you hear me?!" 

Teru nods dumbly, tears spilling over to fall down his cheeks. 

Something in Uta softens, especially when those doe eyes of Teru's turn puffy and moist. But he tries to stay firm. Teru needs to be scolded, deserves it really. He hardens his jaw. "Don't start fucking crying, Teru. You did this to yourself." 

"I'm sorry," he whimpers. "I'm really sorry, Uta!" 

"Promise it won't happen again," he demands. 

Teru sniffles, wipes his eyes with the back of his sleeve. "It won't happen again." 

"Promise?" 

He chokes on a sob. "Promise!" 

Teru doesn't know why he started crying so hard. It might be because this is the first time he's seen Uta in two weeks, and he's _yelling_ at him, scolding him like he was a fucking child. But it could also be because he genuinely scared Uta, and he can't stand that fact. How could he be so reckless? Even his mother told him not to go. But he did anyway. To what? Prove he didn't need Uta? 

Well, he tried, and obviously failed. He needs Uta, but he can't fucking stand it. 

Uta grabs him by the shoulders and presses his face into his chest. "Now stop crying. C'mon, we'll walk you home." 

Aki pats Teru's head. "C'mon," he repeats. "Maybe you'll heal before your mother sees." 

"I'm still not finished with _you,"_ Uta growls at Aki. 

Uta scolds Aki the entire way back to Teru's house. Aki takes it all nobly, agreeing that he should have taken better care of poor, defenseless Teru. Teru sniffs loudly, trying to convey just how fucking offensive it is when everyone assumes he's completely defenseless. But Aki merely pats him on the back and reminds him he'll always be there to protect him. 

Aki waves goodbye when the road to his apartment comes into view, and Teru and Uta trudge on. Teru watches his feet move against the pavement as he walks, but he can feel the taller ghoul's eyes on him the entire time. 

"I'm sorry I lost my temper," Uta suddenly says. Teru only nods, then starts picking at his eyelashes nervously. "I just... You really scared me, Teru." 

"Sorry...." 

"When I saw that guy," his voice tightens as his jaw clenches in anger. "When he hit you, I almost lost my fucking mind. I wanted to _destroy_ him." 

"You're supposed to be a mediator," Teru reminds him. 

Uta cocks his head and grins. "You're right. Guess I'm not doing my job right." 

"Shit happens," Teru adds. "You think I never realized how dangerous it was to follow you around at night? I know, believe me. I hear what people say about me. That I stick around you because I'm weak and you protect me." 

"But it's true." 

"But it's not!" Teru sighs. "I follow you around because you're a fucking dumbass and you'll get yourself killed if I'm not around." Uta laughs gently, and Teru punches his arm lightly. "I'm serious! I've dragged you away from countless fights! If I was really worried about my safety, I'd move to the 20th ward or some shit. But if I left, who the hell is gonna look after you?" 

They stop in front of Teru's home, and Uta presses his lips together. He remembers that night Mayu mentioned Teru's awful mood. 

_I think he knows that you need someone to look out for you right now. But you won't let him be that person._

Teru fumbles around his pockets for his house keys. When he finally manages to fish them out, Uta grabs his hands and squeeze them in his own. 

"Teru," he breathes. His gray eyes soften, and a blush creeps up Teru's neck. "I'm sorry for worrying you all the time." 

For the first time in a long time, Uta sees Teru's face light up, and he beams. "You asshole."


	6. LIPS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i forgot how to write smut please excuse

When they were nine, they somehow convinced Jiro to take them to the festival at the marketplace. 

It was an annual celebration that rang in a bountiful harvest, and merchants lined the streets with their freshest products, their best confections, and their most attractive creations. 

Uta found a man selling masks and gaped at his work. His little fingers traced designs, felt the fabric of each mask, and he asked the vendor a million questions about his work. The creator of those wonders was a kind hearted man, a human with a portly stomach and a warm chuckle in his voice. His face burned bright as the young boy went on and on about his magnificent work. Teru stood by quietly, but was just as impressed as his companion seemed to be. 

"I'll tell you what," he said gently. He bent down on one knee and smiled at the two boys. "Why don't you pick out a mask that you like? It'll be on the house, and our little secret." 

Uta picked out an exceptionally large Tengu mask---the ruddy red porcelain engulfed his face and he nearly broke the long nose right off in his excitement. 

Teru was a little hesitant about just _taking_ something so easily. But both Uta and the man encouraged him softly to pick out his favorite. He picked up a fox mask and smiled. 

* 

"Are you gonna let me come in with you?" Uta asks, his voice harsh. 

Teru blinks at him and frowns. "I just wanna go to bed now, okay?" 

"You're mom's not home," he adds. "And we still haven't discussed that phone call." 

A chill creeps up Teru's legs when the wind begins to pick up. Uta stands his ground, still grasping Teru's fingers firmly in his own hands. 

"We can talk about it tomorrow." 

"If I actually believed you," Uta whispers, taking Teru's house keys out of his hands, "and I went home so that we could discuss it tomorrow, I won't see you for another two weeks." He slides the key into the lock and twists. "So you and I are gonna go inside, maybe have some coffee together, and you're gonna talk to me. Okay?" 

Teru nearly chokes on his own words, but manages to peep out, "Okay." 

Uta leads him inside, his fingers curling against the nape of Teru's neck. They don't make coffee. He leads Teru down the hall to his bedroom and shuts the door. 

"How's your ankle?" he asks casually as he flicks off the light. The room maintains a faint blue hue from the alarm clock on Teru's dresser, allowing just enough illumination for them to see each other. 

Teru gulps. "'s fine." He shivers when Uta presses a hand against his chest and forces him to sit on the bed. "Wasn't hurt that bad." 

"I saw you limping," he says slowly. He lowers himself in front of Teru and gently takes his ankle in hand. Teru watches Uta slip off his shoe and push up the fabric of his pants, exposing the bottom half of his pale calf muscle. 

Teru grits his teeth when his stomach flutters. "It healed." 

"Really?" Uta inspects his ankle almost too thoroughly---presses and massages his fingertips into the joint, at the muscle just above it. He watches Teru the whole time, his eyes widening when Teru parts his lips to say something, but then loses his train of thought. 

Teru balls his fists into the sheets and tries to yank his foot away. But Uta tightens his grip. He leans in and presses his lips to Teru's skin and revels in the way the other tenses beneath his touch. 

"Where else did he hurt you?" Uta asks, slinking forward and resting between Teru's legs. He rubs his thighs softly, and he turns his face upwards to watch Teru fumble over his own thoughts---his face burning a bright pink. "I saw him punch you, and pull your hair." 

Teru's breath clogs in his throat. He feels his face turn red hot. 

"Where else, Teru?" 

"My ribs," he says. 

"Ribs?" Uta's fingers start pulling up the hem of his shirt. 

"Yeah," he sighs. "Slammed me against a dumpster real hard." 

"Poor thing." 

Uta pushes him down until his back presses against the sheets, his legs still dangling off the side, and bunches up Teru's shirt below his armpits. He trails his lips faintly across the skin stretches over Teru's ribs, and pulls back his lips to expose his teeth to nip at him softly. Teru feels trapped, almost. Like a weight presses against his entire body to hold him down, leave him at mercy to Uta's touch. He feels Uta's breath blow over his skin and he shivers. 

"Wait, Uta," he begins. His head swims, but there's still that voice in the back of his mind shouting _You know this is a mistake! Stop it right now!_

But Uta interrupts that thought when he swirls his tongue around Teru's nipple. 

Teru gasps, trying to hold back any other noise. Because that's what Uta wants---a reaction. Uta laughs darkly, and brings his fingers up to pinch and massage the sensitive bud. Teru tries to squirm away, but Uta grips his hip with his other hand and growls against his neck. "Stay still. Be a good boy for me." 

A whimper slips through his lips. "Wait," he repeats weakly. "Wait, I-I-I don't---" 

Uta licks at the dry blood around Teru's lips and groans. Teru's almost done for completely. His fingers tremble when he tries to push Uta away, but he's jerked away by his wrists and spread out under Uta. 

"I said," Uta hisses sensually, "to stay still." He rolls his hips forward, pressing hard against Teru's building erection. Teru winces, tries again to wiggle out of his grasp. "Next time you move, I won't be so gentle." 

"I thought you wanted to talk?! This isn't talking!" 

"I changed my mind," he answers simply. 

"But I don't---" He cuts himself off with a sharp intake of breath. Uta rolls the palm of his hand against his clothed erection. His stomach coils. 

"Don't what?" 

"Don't," he pants. His eyes roll back and he moans. "I don't want to." 

"Bullshit," Uta chides. "Remember that phone call?" He rakes his fingers through Teru's hair, catching a handful of the auburn locks and pulling his head back. He darts his tongue against Teru's neck, presses a thumb against his pulse point. "The way you were moaning like a little whore? Begging me to let you come? Don't you want me to _make_ you come this time?" 

Tears well up in Teru's eyes. He feels so conflicted. He knows this is a terrible, awful, horrifically bad idea. He knows how this story goes, knows every line and stage cue. He knows the ending. 

But, God help him, he _really_ fucking wants it. 

So he doesn't move when Uta unzips his pants and pulls out his aching cock. He exhales roughly through his nose at the relief. He stays still while Uta pulls down his briefs and wraps his long finger around both their members, pressing the heads together and stroking. Teru keens at the contact, and almost accidentally moves in the excitement. He shudders when Uta stops. "Move up more on the bed." 

He wants to make some smart ass remark like, "You told me not to move." But the demanding aura Uta is releasing into the room advises him otherwise. He lays down again, head cradled by his pillow, and watches Uta expectantly. Uta grabs the hem of his own shirt and rolls his arms upward, shedding his clothes and putting on a show for Teru. His mouth waters when he sees Uta's abs, his tattoo on his left pectoral. 

Uta wastes no time in completely undressing Teru. He throws his one remaining shoe across the room---it lands with a dull _thunk_ on the hard wood floor---and peels his pants off in one thrust. "Take off your shirt," Uta demands while he's shimmying out of his own pants and underwear. Teru complies, and throws his shirt towards the laundry basket in the corner of his room. Uta slides Teru's briefs all the way down his legs slowly, and tosses them aside once he's completely naked. His dick, flushed red with arousal, bobs heavily as he crawls over to Teru. 

"Still no lube here?" he asks. He takes one of Teru's thighs in hands and presses wet kisses against the sensitive skin. When Teru doesn't answer, lost in the pleasant feeling, he digs his teeth in harshly, breaking skin and drawing the tiniest amount of blood. The liquid swirls against Uta's palate and he salivates at the taste. Teru whines loudly, tries to pry Uta's mouth off of his skin. Uta's nails dig into the sensitive skin right below his ass, punishingly. He fumbles around the side table and opens a drawer, then digs around for the tiny bottle of lube he bought a week or so ago. You know, just in case... 

"You were expecting this, weren't you?" Uta teases. He coats his fingers in a generous amount of lube, and rubs them together to warm the liquid. 

Teru shakes his head no. But Uta makes no remark on whether or not he believes him. Teru gasps when he feels a slick finger caress his entrance, slowly circling the muscle until it's breeched. The finger massages his inner walls, spreading the liquid in and around his entrance. He starts panting again, rocking his hips in time with Uta's finger, and drapes an arm over his eyes pathetically. 

But Uta suddenly retracts his finger, leaving Teru feeling empty. A wet hand snatches his arm away, and Uta's domineering voice demands, "Look at me, Teru." 

Teru snaps his eyes open and meets Uta's gaze, who smiles viciously and resumes his ministrations. But this time, he presses two fingers into his entrance and crooks his fingers. 

He almost loses it completely, the only thing keeping him grounded is Uta's watchful gaze---his pupils dilated and his kakugan threatening to make an appearance. He whimpers, high pitched and needy, and wants to look away. But he can't, he hasn't been told he could. 

"What do you want, Teru?" 

Uta's fingers brush over his prostate and he sees stars. A long, drawn out moan rolls from his lips as Uta strokes his sweet spot without reservation. 

"Tell me what you want," Uta commands. 

"Fuck... _Fuck me..."_ Teru closes his eyes, shudders and squirms as Uta withdraws his fingers, and let's out a surprised squeak when he's flipped onto his stomach. "Wh...what...?" 

"Lift your hips up," Uta says. Teru glances over his shoulder to watch Uta slick up his member, throwing his head back and groaning at the contact. He lines up the head of his cock with Teru's entrance, pressing bruises in his slender hipbones. Teru's fists tighten in the sheets. "I didn't prepare you all that much, so it'll sting at first. But you can handle it, can't you?" He breeches the ring of muscle, and Teru focuses on keeping his body relaxed, focuses on taking all of Uta. He pants, buries his face in the pillow, and muffles his own whines and moans. 

_"That's it,"_ Uta moans, his voice breaking. He's almost completely seated in Teru, and makes up the difference with one sharp thrust. Teru yelps, and Uta grinds his groin against the pert ass. He fists a hand in Teru's hair and slowly pulls back, only to slam his hips forward. He sets a brutal pace, never giving Teru a moment to catch his breath or get used to the stretch. 

But Teru enjoys the burn, in his own sick way. Tiny squeaks are pushed out of his throat with every thrust Uta makes forward. He grips the sheets, squeezes his eyes shut, and rocks back against Uta. Uta presses a hand on his lower back and forces his ass higher up, changing the angle almost too dramatically. Teru keens and his knees buckle, and Uta has to hold him up by his hips. 

"Look at you," Uta growls over Teru weak gasps. "You look so hot when I fuck you. Like such a fucking wreck." 

"Shut up!" Teru whimpers loudly. He cries out when the head of Uta's cock brushes his prostate. Uta zeroes in on the small bud and pounds against it. The honey sweet noises spilling from Teru's lips grow louder and louder. "T-t-touch me!" he orders. _"Please!"_

"You can beg better than that," Uta pants. He squeezes Teru's hips harder, encouraging. "God Uta, please!" he groans. "Fucking touch me! Touch my cock, please! I'm so close please, please, please." Uta laughs darkly. "You sound so pretty when you beg." He reaches underneath the smaller ghoul and wraps a hand around his cock. Teru nearly screams. His body ripples with pleasure. Uta's breath becomes erratic, his movements stuttering and losing rhythm. He pumps at Teru's dick fiercely, tired of waiting for his own release. When Teru comes, it's with a strangled shout, and he presses his face deep into the pillows to muffle the sounds. He comes into the sheets, the sticky white setting into the fabric. His hole twitches and spasms against Uta's length, but Uta grits his teeth and stops himself from coming. He just thought of a brilliant idea. So when Teru's noises die down, he pulls out and grabs him by the shoulders. He flips Teru onto his back and straddles his chest, taking his cock in hand and pumping himself quickly. Teru shuts his eyes just as Uta's cum splashes on his face. 

He collapses against Teru's chest and tries to steady his breathing. "Good boy," he whispers into his skin. "You're so good for me." 

Teru's fingers twitch. He wants to wrap his arms around Uta's neck, pull him in and breathe in his musk. But an alarming truth starts to settle in his bones. 

The entire time, Uta never once kissed him.


	7. NECK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Did he hurt you, baby?" Mayu asks, her voice maternal and soothing. 
> 
> So soothing, in fact, that tears well up in Teru's eyes. "Yeah, he did."

"You didn't kiss me," Teru whispers, his voice shaking. 

"Go wash off your face, then we'll talk," Uta answers nonchalantly. 

"You son of a _bitch."_ He shoves Uta away from him and stumbles to the door. His legs still feel like jelly and he hates it. He hates everything right now. 

"Teru?" 

He feels his way down the hall and into the tiny bathroom. He stands in front of the sink with his head down---he doesn't want to see himself right now, coated in that asshole's cum. He runs the faucet and rubs water against his face, wiping off the seed and any blood left over from his fight with Yomo. He tries desperately to ignore the opaque liquid running down his thigh. Uta steps up to the doorway with Teru's underwear in hand, in his own clothes already. Teru turns around with his freshly cleaned face and snatches the cloth from Uta. 

"You didn't kiss me," he repeats, except this time the anger in his voice is overwhelming. 

Uta smirks. "Yes I did. I kissed your ankle, your---" 

"That's not what I mean!" Teru snaps. He steps into his underwear, but then looks back at Uta with the same amount of fierceness. "You didn't _kiss_ me. _Why?!"_

Uta's eyes widen. He doesn't know why. It just...didn't cross his mind. So he stands there, watches Teru slowly breakdown in front of him. 

"It was just a quick fuck, wasn't it?!" Teru screeches. His small fingers pull at his own hair. "You don't even---you never even thought---you don't. Even. _Care!"_ His shoves Uta's chest, pushing him out of the doorway. Uta steps back away from Teru, who keeps giving his chest little shoves until they're in the living room, heading for the front door. "Get out! Get out! _Get out!"_

"Teru, just listen---" 

"No!" He opens his front door, doesn't care if the neighbors hear him or see him in nothing but his underwear. "I'm tired of listening to you! All you do is fuck me over! I'm tired of this back and forth between us! Because I never win! You always get what you want because you're a manipulative asshole and I'm not falling for it anymore! You fucked me, but you didn't even kiss me! Too intimate for you or some shit?!" 

Uta looks down at Teru, at his trembling fingers and his widened eyes. He wants to apologize, because he knows how much this hurts Teru---how much _he_ hurts Teru. 

But there's another part of him that really can't muster up a fuck to give. 

"I figured!" Teru growls. "Now _leave."_

So Uta steps out without a word, walking into the night air at a leisurely pace. 

* 

Teru's been in his room for the past three days, only leaving to shower once a day and to grab a cup of coffee. Mayu's worried. She knocks on the door, asks to come in, but Teru never answers. She can hear him behind the door, but he makes no indication that he acknowledged her. She makes coffee for him, tries to entice him out of his room, but he never budges. 

Mayu calls Uta to see if he knows what's wrong, but he's just as ignorant as she is. 

"Is everything okay?" he asks through the receiver. 

"I don't know, he won't talk to me." 

"Well," Uta says slowly, "something _did_ happen that night he and Aki left---that night you called me worried." 

"Uta, don't dance around this," Mayu orders. "Tell me." 

"...The guy almost killed him, Mom." 

She audibly gasps, her fingers curling by her lips. 

"I thought he'd tell you," he continues. "I helped him get home and into bed, but you were already at work, so I didn't think to call you. I really did think he'd tell you." 

"I'll call you back, dear." She tries to sound calm, but her fingers shake and her stomach flutters. She hangs up suddenly. 

She knocks softly against Teru's door. "Sweetie? Can I come in?" 

For the first time in three days, she hears Teru's voice. "Go away," he demands weakly. She hears a sniffle in his voice. 

"Teru, please," she says, knocking lightly on the wooden frame. "I'm not mad at you, baby. Just let me talk to you, okay?" 

Behind the door, Teru freezes. Why would she even be mad at him? He didn't do anything wrong, all this bullshit is Uta's fault. 

"Uta told me what happened," she continues. "Are you okay? Please let me in." 

_Uta told her?!_ Sure, he's certain his mother has had her suspicions about the exact nature of their relationship, but they've never told her out right that they were ever sexually involved. His heart hammers in his chest. 

"Did he hurt you, baby?" she asks, her voice maternal and soothing. 

So soothing, in fact, that tears well up in Teru's eyes. "Yeah, he did." 

He pads over to his door and opens it slowly. His mother enters quietly and wraps her arms around him. She rocks him slightly, and Teru clutches at her back. 

"Where did he hurt you?" she asks quietly. 

Teru freezes again. _Where?_ She definitely was talking about something else. 

"Uta said...it was a pretty bad fight." 

_"Oh,"_ he breathes. "Yeah. He broke my ankle." 

Mayu sits her son on his bed and talks to him, _really_ listens to his recount of that night's events. Of course, he leaves out what happened once he got home. But she listens intently, holds his hand in hers and strokes his knuckles. 

"So," she starts carefully, "does this mean you're not going to help Uta anymore?" 

He presses his lips together, brings his free hand up to rub the back of his neck. "I don't know..." 

"It's getting too dangerous for you, Teru. You've been attacked a lot lately. Someone hit you." 

The corner of his lip curls up to smile. "It's not like I've never been hit before." 

Mayu falls silent. She folds her hands in her lap and sighs. "Yeah. I know." 

* 

Teru was six years old when he walked into the living room to find his mother crying. 

He didn't understand, at first. He climbed onto the couch and took her hand, his chubby little fingers rubbing at her knuckles---a habit he acquired from his mother. 

"Mommy?" he asked. "What's wrong?" 

His mother sniffled and tried to regain her composure. She pats her eyes with a tissue, careful not to smudge her makeup. She did her best to smile, "Teru, sweetheart, what are you doing up?" 

But then Teru became acutely aware that his mother was crying, alone, late at night. 

_Where was his father?_

"Where's Daddy?" he asked, because his little mind couldn't think of one reason why he wouldn't be there to console his own wife. 

His mother looked away for a moment, and sighed heavily before scooping him into her lap. He wraps his little arms around her neck, his face still drooping from sleep. "Teru," she said slowly. "Sometimes... When you live like we do, when you are what we are, sometimes the ones you love stop coming home." She brushes his hair out of his little face, his chubby features almost too much like his father's for her to bear. "And it's not because he doesn't love you. Your father loves you _very_ much. But, Teru, Daddy won't be coming home anymore." 

He went out looking for his father after that, sneaking out of the house to wander the streets and ask ghouls he was familiar with if they'd seen him. He'd been at it for an hour when he began to feel hopeless, when he suddenly realized Daddy won't be coming home because Daddy couldn't come home. Daddy was.... 

He sat down and started crying, huddling up against the brick wall of a building at least a mile from his home. No one stopped to help him, a small child sobbing alone at night, in his pajamas with his feet still bare. 

But a male ghoul and what he guessed was his son stopped and took Teru home. Teru wrapped his arms and legs around the adult ghoul, crying into his neck and dampening his shirt. But he didn't even care. He shushed him softly the whole walk home, told him, "It's gonna be okay, little man. Let's get you home so you can take care of your mama." 

* 

When her son was ten years old, Mayu made a very difficult decision. 

As her son was getting older, she became more and more worried about their own safety. Teru showed no signs of strengthening his skills. His little friend, Uta, could already bare his kagune, but Teru's eyes remained dull, like the fire to fight hadn't yet scorched his heart, and he couldn't even form kakuhou. He was doomed to be weak like her. 

So she took up a lover, of sorts. A stronger ghoul, one that could hunt for and protect her and her young son. 

His name was Katashi. 

Katashi was tall, taller than his father had been, Teru thought. Taller than Jiro, even. He kept his hair slicked back, black locks shining with whatever products he used. When he smiled, it was never genuine, but more like a mask he stretched over his face to hide what he was really up to. His lazy eyes never matched his expression, the sound of his deep voice. 

But he did what Mayu hoped he would do. They never wanted for anything, and the sheer amount of safety his presence brought took an enormous load of off Mayu's shoulders, easing the pain in her neck. 

He protected them from other ghouls, as threats of cannibalism were rampant in their ward many years ago. 

However, what he couldn't protect them from was his own anger.


	8. HIPS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Just leave, Teru," Aki presses on. "I don't see anything good happening if you keep messing around with Uta. You're too good for him."

Katashi wasn't good with children. It was one of the first things she noticed about him when she very tentatively brought him home to meet her child. 

He knocked on the door a little too loudly, making Teru jump up from where he was playing in the living room floor. His little friend, Uta (so much a regular at their home, Mayu might as well have told Katashi she had _two_ sons), placed a hand on his shoulders and smiled at him, brought him back to their extravagant LEGO creation. 

Katashi stepped in and looked at the children indifferently. "Which one is yours?" he muttered to Mayu. 

"Teru," she called out gently. Teru's head shoots back up towards his mother and he grinned. He rushed over to his mother to see what she wanted with him. 

"Yeah, Mom?" 

"Sweetie, I'd like you to meet someone." She placed an arm around Katashi's bicep. He nodded his head slightly as Mayu said, "This is Katashi. He's going to be living with us, okay?" 

"Why?" 

Katashi cleared his throat. He wasn't used to children, but he told Mayu he'd try to work things out with her little Teru. "Because we're lovers now." 

"What?!" Mayu, Uta, and Teru all seemed to screech at once. 

"Okay, I know I told you to be honest with children, but I think that was a little too blunt," she later told Katashi, after Uta had gone home and Teru had been tucked away for the night. 

"Sorry," he muttered. Always muttering. "I'll work on it." 

* 

Aki comes over two days later, knocking on the door lightly and giving Mayu a cheerful greeting. 

"Boss sent me to check on your freezer," he explains as Mayu lets him in. "I also wanted to check on Teru. See how he's doing." 

"He's in the kitchen, dear," Mayu hums. She floats away to continue with their laundry, the scent of clean clothes filling the house. 

Aki steps into the kitchen, regards Teru sitting at the table---sipping coffee in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt he recognizes as Uta's---and pries open the freezer. Only a couple of packages remain, mostly lumpy and white with bones. It must be fingers and toes or something, and he remembers faintly how Teru once said the hands are the worst part of a human. 

"How's it goin', Teru?" Aki asks as he takes a seat across from him. 

Teru shrugs, takes a large gulp of his coffee. "Want some?" he offers. 

He shakes his head. "No, I'm fine." After a short pause, Aki tries to find the courage to begin. 

He knows about Teru and Uta's relationship. Some days, when he goes to Uta's to give reports or receive further instruction, he'll smell Teru on him, and a certain musk he still can't quite place; although he's certain it must be the scent of their sex. Teru's also incredibly easy to read. He sees how Teru looks at Uta, how he watches him carefully and gets so worked up when there's the slightest hint of danger. 

It's also not difficult for him to tell Uta doesn't exactly reciprocate his feelings. 

But something's been bothering him over the week. Something he feels Teru definitely needs to know. 

"Listen," he starts slowly, so he can stop himself if he crosses a line. "Something's been bothering me, and I think you should know. Remember that night with Yomo?" 

Teru's shoulders droop. "Yeah." 

"Boss kept calling him 'Renji.'" 

"Yeah, he likes to taunt people." 

"Teru, you never told him his name was Renji." 

His coffee mug clanks against the kitchen table, and Teru's whole body tenses up. 

But Aki continues, "He was just watching, Teru. The whole time, I bet." His eyebrows knit together, and his twiddles his thick fingers in his lap. "I'm sorry, I just... I thought about it, and it just didn't seem right, y'know?" 

"Yeah." Teru's voice is a whisper, his eyes focusing on the grain of the wood on the table. 

"I didn't say anything to start shit, the way Mako does. I care about you." 

"I know." 

"I don't think you should mess with Uta anymore," he says, low enough only for Teru to hear. "You and your mother should leave this ward. There's a place I heard about, in the twentieth ward. It's a coffee shop, but they can help---" 

"I'm not leaving this ward," Teru says firmly. "I grew up here. People respect me here. At least some do." 

"Just leave, Teru," Aki presses on. "I don't see anything good happening if you keep messing around with Uta. You're too good for him." 

Teru's eyes snap up to Aki's face, the earthy brown now moist and darkened, like soil on a rainy day. 

"I know what's been going on between you guys, and I've kept my mouth shut for too long," he whispers. His fists clench beneath the table. He's so nervous Teru will be angry with him, but he just has to tell him how much it's obvious. It's _so_ obvious how much Uta hurts Teru, and he can't stand it anymore. "He doesn't deserve anything from you. But it's like you have some sort of sick addiction for pain. That's why you have to leave. You have to get away from him. He just watched that guy try to kill you, he could've stepped in before that whole mess even started. But he didn't. Because he likes to see you get hurt. Teru, you have to stay away from him. Stay away from _all_ of us. You're mask broke, so take that as a sign that you should retire." 

Teru's expression remains blank, like he's still taking in every hushed plea Aki gave him. He starts rubbing his fingers against his eyebrows, picking at the hairs there. He takes a short breath, wants to say something in response, but can't seem to find any. "I think... You're overreacting." 

Aki leans forward, keeps his voice very low. "I'm not. I'm trying to be honest with you." 

"I'll consider what you said," Teru finally answers. Only he knows it's a complete lie. 

* 

Katashi settled in to his step-parent role a little too easily. He found it effortless to scold Teru, try to keep him in line and teach him how a man should behave. Teru was too sweet for Katashi's lessons, always running off to find and hide behind his mother in times of stress. It irked Katashi more than it should have. 

Mayu saw everything begin to crumble, but couldn't stop the impending crash. She tried desperately to pick up the pieces: to comfort Teru when Katashi said something particularly harsh, to try and reason with Katashi that Teru is only a little boy, that he needs to go easy on him. 

"Other ghouls won't go easy on him," Katashi spat. "Dove's won't go easy on him." 

He was right, though. 

So Mayu had no choice but to let the lessons continue. They would stay outside for hours, Katashi helping Teru with his agility, his fighting skills. Still no sign of his kagune, and that irked Katashi even more. 

"What about yours?" Katashi asked Mayu. "You can use yours, right?" 

"I'm not a very skilled fighter," she admitted. "I've only had to use it two, maybe three times." 

"Do you even know what Rc type Teru is?" he continued. 

"No." She herself was a rinkaku type, while Teru's father was a bikaku type. He could be either one, but Mayu to this day still doesn't know her son's Rc type. 

He placed a hand around her hip and tried to bring her in close, to melt into each other. His hand burned like a hot iron against her skin, and she regrets never taking this as the sign it was meant to be. Because the first time he hit her, her cheek burned, like someone had pressed white-hot iron to her skin.


	9. KNEES

Teru sniffled, held the wet cloth to his scraped knee, his head throbbing. 

"Stop crying," Katashi ordered. "Hurry up and heal before your mom gets home." 

"You were too rough." His voice croaked underneath the tears. 

Katashi snorted. "You're fine. Get over it." 

"I don't wanna fight anymore," Teru frowned. "You're bigger than me. It's not fair." 

"You're always gonna be little, Teru," Katashi muttered. Mom said he had a muttering problem. "Everyone will be bigger than you. Get over it." 

He sniffed loudly. "It's not fair." 

"Want me to get your friend over here to spar with you?" Katashi hissed. "He'll just kick your ass, too. Because you're weak. You'll always be weak."   
He wanted to say something else, but he held his tongue. His head continued to throb. 

"Hurry up and heal, Teru." 

_"I'm trying."_

* 

Mayu's manager gives her two weeks off every six months, sort of as a thank-you-vacation. She's an extremely dedicated employee, and very popular among the regular customers. 

She normally spent those two weeks curled on the couch with a good book. Sometimes Teru would throw a blanket over the two, and they'd watch dramas and horror movies together. It was always a peaceful two weeks, a time that she looked forward to. 

But Teru was being difficult. He's normally so composed and calm, but he's been manic with episodes of crying fits followed by an uncontrollable rage. She would blame puberty, had it happened years ago. But Teru was almost twenty. He didn't need to be acting like this. And as much as she loves her son, he needs to get it through his head that this sort of behavior isn't healthy. He needs to tell her what's wrong so they could work on fixing it. 

So on the first day of her two week vacation, she pulls Teru out of his room and drags him outside. The day is sunny and unseasonably warm, and she wears a large pair of sunglasses and a creme colored maxi dress, the fabric thick to accommodate the fall weather. Teru just leaves in a plain white shirt and jeans, his hair unkempt and his eyes baggy. A far off, lost gaze. 

"I know of a very cute coffee place!" she announces as they board a bus. "They don't have an outdoor patio, but we can sit next to the window so you can get some sunlight!" 

"I'm not a plant, Mom." They take their seats, sitting near the front door. Mayu wraps her arm around Teru's, rests her tiny hand in the crook of his elbow. 

"Everyone needs sunlight," she smiles, almost knowingly. "It'll help with your mood, trust me. That and a good cup of coffee for once, you'll be good as new!" 

He huffs. "There's nothing wrong with the coffee at home. It's just as good." 

"But we don't have a Columbian coffee," Mayu continues cheerfully, trying her best to seem as chipper as possible so the mood may rub off on Teru. "They say it's the best! Let's go try it, as a treat!" 

They leave the fourth ward, the buildings around them coming to life as they enter the twentieth. Teru watches the buildings pass, reads the signs hanging in the windows. The bus stops and his mother tugs at his arm, leads him off the bus. "It's that way," she instructs, yanking him in the right direction. 

They enter a coffee shop called "Anteiku", an elderly man---a ghoul---greeting them at the door. 

"Welcome! Sit wherever you like, your server will be with you shortly!" he says kindly. Mayu thanks him, then leads Teru to an open seat by the window. 

She removes her sunglasses and smiles. "Isn't it a nice place?" she asks. Teru looks around the small shop, at the wooden decorations, the jars of coffee beans behind the bar, the stools occupied by ghouls and humans alike. He shrugs. Mayu pops her fingers against his knuckles. "Quit being such a sour puss!" 

He looks at her blankly, doesn't say anything until a slender woman interrupts. Sleek black hair, a sharp face with high cheekbones. Eyes that glint like a silver coin. Teru purses his lips and stares down at his hands—she seems the type of woman his mother would think a good match for him. 

"Welcome! Do you and your friend need more time to look at the menu? Or do you know what you want?" 

The way she said "friend" makes Teru uncomfortable, but his mother replies too quickly for him to say anything. 

"I hear you have an amazing Columbian blend," Mayu grins. "I'll take a cup, no room for cream needed!"   
"Certainly, ma'am! And for you?" she asks towards Teru. 

"Just a cup of black coffee." 

"Anything in particular?" She asks, jotting down their orders on a notepad. 

Terus flaps his hand, and Mayu has every mind to scold him for it. "Anything's fine." 

"Of course," she nods her head once before turning on her heels. "I'll be right back with your orders." 

When the woman is gone, Mayu looks at her son incredulously. "That's not the way I raised you to speak to someone." 

Teru picks up a spoon, examines the impeccably shined silver. But otherwise says nothing. 

"Wow," she breathes, disbelief. Craddles her face in her hand and puffs air through her bangs. "She's very pretty, don't you think? It's a shame you were so rude." 

Teru shrugs, his eyes never leaving the spoon in his hand. 

"You know what might be nice?" Mayu continues, trying to find any subject at all to talk about. "If   
you got a job here." Teru snorts, shoulders juping up once. "I'm serious!" his mother laughs. "It's really not that far away. You could probably get here faster if you took the train. It's such a nice place, too, and all of the employees are so friendly and---" 

"I'm not going to work here," Teru snaps coldly. "I don't want to work at a coffee shop." 

Mayu's expression seems to melt off of her face. She watches her son curl in on himself, tug at his hair. "I don't wanna work here. I work for the ward, and it's gonna stay that way, okay? People need me." They're silent when they're brought their coffee. The waitress sits the cups in front of Teru and Mayu, then leaves immediately, sensing the tension. 

Mayu sips at her drink, feels the warm liquid slither into her belly and comfort her from the inside out. "You're so much like your father," she says softly. "All he ever wanted to do was be helpful." 

"I don't really remember Dad," he admits. He sips at his own drink, making an appreciative noise in the back of his throat at the rich flavor. 

Mayu looks at the flowers sitting at the center of their table, a bouquet of violets and Irish moss. "You remind me so much of him. I look at you, and I see him smiling back at me. Sometimes," she sighs deeply. She's never spoken to Teru too much about his father. The wound was still open, had been itching and oozing puss for almost fourteen years. Teru leaving every night, acting as a peacekeeper in the ward, only further agitated the wound. Because every night when she comes home and Teru is still gone, it reminds her of when _he_ never came back. "Sometimes I get scared, that you'll end up like him, too. Just.... _gone._ And I'll never figure out why you never came home." 

"Mom," Teru whispers. He reaches across the table, takes her dainty fingers and strokes her knuckles. "I'm not going anywhere. Okay?" 

"Okay..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stand firm on my opinion that Mayu is the best mom ever to have lived


	10. THIGHS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why aren't you scared of me, Aki?" 
> 
> Aki turns a bit, glancing over his shoulder. "Because I know. You fuck with Teru because you're scared of losing him. You're just pathetic."

Uta hasn't seen Teru in quite some time. It honestly starts to worry him, and he's not the type to fret over others. But there's always a muffled voice in the back of his mind that urges him to check on Teru, tend to Teru, dote on him like a child. 

Because even though they're the same age, Teru's his _good boy,_ and nothing can change that. 

Except, maybe, this recent development that has caused the smaller ghoul to avoid him. So what if he didn't kiss him? Sex is raw, an outlet for a physical high he can only seem to find with Teru. He's tried sex with other people (although he wouldn't dare admit that to his little lover), but it felt distant, like having lunch with a complete stranger and not talking at all. Like having lunch with someone you used to be close with but haven't spoken to in years. The kind of distance a comforting body can amend. 

Teru accused Uta's lack of kissing to be a lack of intimacy, but he doesn't realize just how intimate he had been with Teru that night. 

They used to hold hands, sneak under the covers at night and kiss until their lips were red and raw. Teru would clasp his hands in his own, count the wrinkles in his palm and pick at his nail polish. He was always picking at things, and it annoyed Uta. He threatened to bite off the digits on more than one occasion, but Teru would only giggle and nuzzle his face against his neck. 

Small things like that kept Uta interested. He tries desperately to find other things to peak his interest: the lilt in Teru's voice, the warmth in his eyes, his endearing sense of pride. But nothing can compare to physical contact with Teru. The warm body thrumming beneath him sets him aflame, and he craves it. So much of an addict he is, that he'd do anything to feel it once again. 

He'd hurt Teru, because then Teru would need him to pull the pieces together, bandage him up and make him feel whole again. 

These are the games that they play, and Uta _loves_ it. 

He considers his next move. It'll have to be quite the grand gesture, because he was almost certain after that night, Teru might never want to see him again. But he's very doubtful about that. He can't count how many times Teru has told him to see his way out of his life, and it's normally Teru that comes crawling back, craving Uta. He has Teru wrapped around his finger and there's no unraveling him. 

So he'll make it up to Teru somehow, and order will be restored momentarily. Until the next fuck up, that is. Uta's pretty decent at fucking things up. 

* 

Teru still patrols with Mako, but they never talk. He refuses to give Mako any form of foddering. He won't let him burn down this relationship just yet, because maybe there's room to fix it. Teru's not ready to give up just yet. 

But Mako chatters on about things: about plans the boss has, or his visits to the host club his mother works at. He always walks away when Mako brings that up, only to be followed by the cackling elder. He wants to smack him. 

"Yomo's being kind of a bother again," Mako says suddenly, and Teru almost misses what he says over the sound of traffic hurrying by. 

His hair whips in his face and he slows his steps. "How?" he asks. He's almost too afraid of the answer. Because if Yomo's breaking the rules again, _Teru_ would be sent to issue a warning---he felt like a rabbit trying to scold a bear. 

"Hasn't been in any fights that I know of, but he keeps scrappin' with the boss." 

Teru's breath hitches. His fingers twitch with the want to pick at something. 

"Aki gave him warnings, 'cause he didn't want you messing with Yomo anymore," Mako continues. "Boss had to step in. They fought last night, but it wasn't getting anywhere, so boss left." 

"You're serious?" 

"Dead serious. I also heard the fight was pretty intense." He pulls a pack of smokes out of his pocket, and lets one dangle off his bottom lip. "Dove's might be coming out this way, check things out and do some interrogations. If they catch Uta or Yomo, who knows? They'd either be the next rookie's weapon or get hauled to Cochlea." 

"I gotta go," Teru mumbles before darting off in the direction of Uta's apartment. 

He rushes towards the building, taking the stairs two at a time and slamming into the door when it doesn't open immediately. He knocks on the door loudly, calls out Uta's name. But there's not a single noise stirring behind the door, and Teru presses his head against the cool wood in defeat. 

Maybe it was meant to be that Uta happened to not be home. But that thought only worried Teru more, because he was more than likely fighting Renji Yomo somewhere. He slams a fist against the wood and elects to go home for the night, try to get some sleep. 

* 

Fighting with Renji was the best type of workout. Uta used muscles he couldn't even name, ones deep under his skin that wrapped around his bones. A sick part of him hoped Renji was getting a good workout, too. 

And that's all this really was, it seemed. A workout. Because they were equally matched, possessed a similar fighting style. It was like Uta was fighting himself. 

But their fights were never without damage. He was certain the structural integrity of many buildings have been compromised because of their fun. 

* 

Renji stumbles away one night after a particularly messy altercation with that weird ghoul called Uta. He presses his hand to his arm, holds the wound tight while it heals. 

"Fuck," he breathes. He feels the skin form back together and relieves the pressure. Uta got the upper hand this time. But he'll kill him for sure next time. He keeps getting in Renji's way, and it's bothersome. 

Renji couldn't help but notice that The Fox hasn't been with Uta since the first night they met. What was the kids name again? Tohru? Tetsu? Wait, he remembers now. 

_Teru._

Why hasn't Teru been with Uta these past few nights? He's his right hand man, so shouldn't he be standing at his right? He was weak, Renji recalls. He could have snapped him between his fingers like a toothpick. Teru's death would have been swift, uneventful, and probably very forgettable. 

But the boy kept standing back up. 

Renji sprints away, rushing towards the direction of the abandoned paper factory he currently called home. 

No, it's not home. 

Home was stripped away from him, almost a month ago now. Home was ripped from his fingers and thrown in the pyre to burn. Home is probably sitting in that bastards briefcase, ready to unfold at his command and strip someone else of their own home. 

In the factory, in what he assumes was a manager's office, he has two pictures taped to the wall. One of his sister, her ethereal beauty radiating from the glossy paper. 

Taped next to her is a newspaper clipping of Arima Kishou. 

* 

Itori works at a slimy little bar smack-dab in the middle of the fourteenth ward. Uta can almost feel himself inhaling the grime. But he knows it's the best she can manage for now. 

"I'll open my own bar someday, U-chan!" she cheered delightedly one day, but the elation in her voice was quickly wiped clean when a customer pinched her ass. 

But today, she's still a bartender at this crusty establishment, but he knows she makes the best of it. 

"Want some blood wine?" she asks, reaching for a glass under the bar. She sits it on top of the bar with a quiet thud and brushes her hair behind her ear. The rosy-blonde strands, too short for such an act, rolls from behind her ear and right back in her face. 

"Just a little. I wanna try to keep my head clear." 

She snorts. "Why would you wanna do a thing like that?" 

"I'll probably end up stumbling drunk to Teru's house if I drink too much," he answers. He takes the drink Itori offers and swirls it around the glass, watches how liquid catches on the side and oozes downward. "I'd rather not embarrass myself." 

"You _are_ pretty embarrassing when you're drunk," she teases. "But why would you stumble to Teru-chan's house? Trouble in paradise?" 

Uta wrinkles his nose at her. She can be annoying sometimes. "Our relationship has never been paradise. It's...weird. I don't know. But he's mad at me--- _furious,_ actually---and I'm not so sure how to go about reeling him back in." 

"You play a sadistic game with him." 

Uta smirks into his glass. "I know." 

The bell above the entrance tingles, slamming shut against the frame. Uta and Itori both glance up expectantly, but seem only slightly disappointed when Aki takes a seat with them. He offers no greeting, no smile of welcome. He gestures to Itori for one drink, and she pops into action. Sits the glass in front of the larger ghoul quietly. 

"Good evening," Uta says suddenly, emphatically. 

Aki finally turns to regard his boss. "Good evening, sir." He mocks Uta's tone, it's irritating. 

But Uta doesn't let it bother him, at least not visibly. He is the picture of control, so he smiles and tips his glass to Aki. "Rough night out on patrol?" 

Aki shrugs, takes a deep swig from his glass. Uncharacteristically, he frowns. "Mako and Teru are on patrol tonight." 

Uta hums. "You're right." A moment of silence falls between them, Itori watching the pair quietly. Aki twirls his glass, listening to the cubes of ice clink together softly. Uta decides to poke the bear. "And you're not tailing him tonight? Like a fretting mother?" 

Aki huffs. "I haven't done that in a long time." 

"You've a newfound faith in Teru." 

Itori hums quietly behind the bar, feigning disinterest. But she hangs on every word like it were the last she'd ever hear. 

"That's the difference between you and me," Aki says, voice indifferent. "I've always believed in Teru." 

Uta smiles, his eyes thinning to slits. "Is that so?" 

Aki doesn’t answer, just sips at his drink. The amber liquid glinting in the lowlights. 

"You came here for a reason, Aki," Uta sing-songs. "Are you here to chew me out?" 

He pokes at Aki's bicep playfully, watches Aki's brows knit and his fist clench. 

"You should leave Teru alone," Aki finally answers. He squares his jaw, takes a swig from his drink. Won't look at Uta. "You're tearing him apart." 

"Aren't we observant?" Uta purrs. 

Itori steps away then, testosterone mucking the air. 

"But I can't say I know what you're talking about," Uta sighs, leaning back in his chair. "Seems like you're reading too much into things. You know how emotional he is, the littlest things set him off." 

"Then why is it always _you_ setting him off?" 

That causes Uta pause, his skin shivering with the adrenaline of being caught red-handed. But he smiles all the same—always smiling, always deceiving. "You've set him off before." 

"Once," Aki's says firmly. "But the difference is, I _learned_ from it. But you take pleasure in it." He sits his glass down, empty now, and finally looks at Uta. Eyes sharp and lips thin. "I'm not stupid," Aki says. "I know what's going on. I've _always_ known. Teru is terrible at hiding his feelings, and it's so fucking obvious what you do to him. He loves you." 

Uta doesn't move, doesn't flinch. He's much too intrigued to do otherwise. 

"You're not doing anything to help him," he continues. "You're just... You make it worse. You make everything worse for him, and it's _pathetic._ But I don't know if he's too scared or too stupid to tell you to stop." 

Uta scoffs, hiding a grin behind his hand as he lifts his cup toward his lips. 

"So I'll say it. Because I'm not scared of you." He pauses to let the statement settle, to let Uta react. But Uta just lounges in the chair next to Aki, spreading his arms empirically. "Stop the shit with Teru." 

Aki stands then, turning on his heels to head toward the exit for a dramatic departure. But Uta clears his throat before he leaves, and Aki pauses. 

"Why aren't you scared of me, Aki?" 

Aki turns a bit, glancing over his shoulder. "Because I know you only fuck with Teru because you're scared of losing him. You're just pathetic." 

And then Aki is gone. 

Itori snorts, crossing her arms over her chest. Hip jutting. "What the fuck?" 

"Don't mind him," Uta flaps his hand, laughing gently. "He just has a crush on Teru. It's kinda cute." 

"And he knows about the shit you two do together," Itori giggles. "I still can't even. Like, did he really think he could intimidate you like that?" 

They laugh together, Itori refilling their drinks while her shoulders shake. They toast over nothing and down their drinks in one go. Uta hisses through the heat, his face heating from the fermented blood. 

_"Anyway,"_ Itori begins. "Back to the real issue." 

Uta sighs, laughs slightly, and hides his face in his arms. "I'm kinda drunk. Wanna go see Teru, but he's mad." 

"So you gotta do something to apologize." 

Uta clenches his fists, lifts himself from the bar. "I shouldn't have to." 

"Listen," Itori begins. "You make masks, right? Make him one." She leans against the bar, cradling her face in her hands. "He's like a girl, really. Guess that's why you're so crazy about him, right? Anyway," she waves a hand to wave that thought away, turning away to grab the bottle and refill his glass. "He'd totally be all about gifts. Especially if they were hand-made. Trust me." 

Uta clicks his tongue, his eyes still downcast towards his drink. "Make him something," he echoes. 

Itori crosses around the bar, sits in the empty stool next to Uta. "Or," she adds, "just let Teru go. Goodness, that boy's probably so much better off without you." 

"A lot of people think that, apparently." He takes a large gulp of his blood wine, licks at the corner of his lips. "But he really does need me. I couldn't just abandon him." 

Itori places a hand on Uta's thigh, an inch or so above his knee. The gesture is friendly, nothing more than a firm weight presses against Uta's skin to remind him someone's there next to him, listening to him. Her fingers don't move, they just sit there. "So long as you're having fun, right?" 

There's a long pause, one that seems to scratch at Uta's skin. He looks down at his forearm, still milky white and very uninteresting. 

"You wanna go get tattoos together?" he asks Itori, almost like a joke. 

But her face brightens. "Yes, oh my god. Let's do it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH SHIT WADDUP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> [I have a new writing blog](http://kbasb-writing.tumblr.com/) if anyone's interested. I'm keeping that as the only way you can contact me about HANDS (unless you already follow my personal. You can continue that way if you want)


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